


The Whole 'Being Dead' Thing

by amybri2002



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (i mean if you know beetlejuice you know what i mean but i'll tag it just in case), Angst, Beetlejuice AU, Blood, Character Death, Death, M/M, Suicide, although to be fair i'm bad at angst so like don't worry this is still pretty lighthearted, here's some trigger warnings:, hospital mentions, if you've seen beetlejuice you probably know what you're getting yourself into but just in case, just some fun ghost hauntings :), no smut but they do talk about it a lot, sexual innuendo, swearing probably too, underage marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-11-07 13:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amybri2002/pseuds/amybri2002
Summary: One minute newly-weds, next minute newly-dead. When Patton and Logan Sanders die, what they find isn't quite what they expect. A new family move into their beloved house, and they're willing to do anything (well, almost anything) to get them out. But things don't quite go as planned, and with a demon running lose, who knows if life (or death) will ever be the same?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You clicked on this! Cool!  
So, I recently became re-obsessed with Beetlejuice due to that amazing musical (Alex Brightman can have my heart tbh) so I've decided to smash my two obsessions together and make a beetlejuice!au 'cause why not. This takes elements of both the movie and the musical and some things I just made up so yeah. If you haven't seen Beetlejuice, firstly what are you doing with your life go watch it, but secondly don't worry, this should still make sense if you want to read it. I'll put trigger warnings at the top of individual chapters, but in general there's a lot of talk of death so if that makes you uncomfortable it's probably not a good idea to read this.  
Anyway, this should be a lot of fun so let's just jump straight into it :) hope y'all enjoy ^^
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING:** death, blood, injury, hospital mention

A full moon shone bright in the sky, with millions of stars scattered around it. The air was cold but the newly-weds did not mind, as that just meant they had an excuse to cuddle - to, y'know, keep warm. Logan wrapped his arm tight around Patton, pulling him close in a loving embrace as they looked up at the stars. He moved his head to the side to allow Patton to look through his telescope, then smiled when Patton withdrew, an excited sparkle in his eye.

"What's that one called again?" Patton asked, pointing up at a constellation.

Logan smiled. "That's-"

He stopped, feeling the roof beneath him shift down. Patton grabbed his hand, moving his fingers down to Logan's shiny new wedding ring and twisted it around. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Logan admitted, "but it didn't sound good. I don't think it's a good idea for us to be up here."

"Should we head back inside?"

For a moment, Logan stayed silent, before he heard the tiles creak again. "Yes, I think that would be best.

The two began to stand up and head back to safety, so they could snuggle by the fire and read a book, or start repainting another wall, but fate had other plans. As they moved all their weight to their feet, they felt the roof cave in once more, and then they were sliding downwards, and then they were screaming, and then everything went quiet.

* * *

It was a big house. Old, Victorian. Not exactly in the best condition, but it wasn't anything they couldn't fix. Patton loved this house when they had looked around, and Logan couldn't help but admire the architecture, and the sparkle in Patton's eyes. They had decided to buy it immediately, despite a heavy argument with the salesperson, who thought it was better for a family. They_ were_ a family, Logan and Patton. That was enough. 

They started working on it immediately - Patton redecorated the walls, changing every few weeks, sometimes days. Logan moved all his equipment into the attic or the study. It was the perfect house for the two of them. Big enough that they had space to be alone if they needed, big enough to make it exactly how they wanted it to be, but small enough that they'd never be too far apart. 

People would try to take the house away from them. They would offer them more money than they could imagine, try to tell them that the house is just_ too_ big. It wasn't, of course. They loved it there. Logan loved pacing down the hallways when he was trying to think and Patton loved running up and down the garden (or field, more like) when he was restless. And perhaps one day there'd be someone else to share it with. Perhaps. 

Besides, they couldn't let go. It was their house, their home, their most prized possession, the most important thing in their life. 

Logan and Patton had lived together in that house for five years before deciding they were ready to spend the rest of their lives together. Not like they weren't already doing that, but apparently some people needed more convincing. 

Their wedding was small, just themselves, a few friends and Patton's parents. They were married in their own backyard, by a friend, and that was enough. They didn't need a honeymoon - once all their friends had gone home, a night together watching the stars was enough. 

* * *

Patton stumbled into the house, his arm wrapped around Logan's shoulder. He was struggling to walk, which made sense after that fall. How did they even survive that? It must have been some miracle. 

Still, Logan thought it was best that they get inside and check Patton's leg. Logan seemed to be fine, apart from a cut on his head that he said didn't hurt that much. Patton couldn't say that he believed him, but that could wait - he'd check him over later. 

"Are you sure you're okay, Logan?" Patton asked, once Logan had hoisted him up on the table. "That was a pretty nasty fall." 

"I'm fine, Patton. I'll bandage it up later," he promised. "But first we need to make sure you're okay." 

Patton looked up at Logan and gasped, noticing the blood dripping down his face. "Are you sure that doesn't hurt?" 

"Patton, I assure you, I don't feel a th-" He wiped his forehead and looked at his bloodstained hand. "That's a lot of blood." 

"Should we go to the hospital?" Patton asked. 

Logan thought for a moment, before nodding. "Yes, I think- I think we should." 

Patton jumped down from the table, expecting to wince but not feeling a thing. He could walk normally now. Strange. 

His fingers interlocked with Logan's and the two made their way out the house. Patton opened the door and stepped inside, feeling a harsh gush of wind hitting his face, carrying what seemed to be... sand? 

There was a desert. A huge desert, going on forever and forever. The sky was an unnatural shade of blue, almost green, and there was sand_ everywhere_. This wasn't their garden. This couldn't be their town. It was as if he'd stepped onto another planet. In the distance, emerging out of the sand was a giant monster, a snake perhaps, with sharp teeth and a stare that could kill. It shot towards Patton. 

Holding back a scream, Patton turned around, only to find that Logan and their house had disappeared. And here he was, in a strange place, trapped, fearing for his life, surely about to- 

Something grabbed his arm, and the next thing he knew he was back home, in Logan's arms, panting heavily but beginning to calm down. 

"Are you okay?" Logan asked, over and over again. 

Patton drew away, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Yes. I'm okay. But, uh, when did we move to a desert?" 

Logan frowned. "We didn't?" 

Patton turned around and glanced out the window. No desert. Just their garden, their town, and... 

Blue and red flashing lights. 

"Did you call an ambulance?" Patton asked, turning back to Logan. 

Logan shook his head. "No?" He moved over to the window and looked outside. He gasped, holding his face in his hands. 

"What? What is it?" 

Logan bit his lip, bringing his hands down and trying to compose himself. "Um, is there an explanation as to why we're lying outside?"

Patton frowned, stepping forward to join him at the window. His mouth hung low in shock. Their bodies were there, lying in a pool of blood. People gathered around them, their neighbours and a paramedic, shaking her head. He placed a hand on Logan's shoulder. 

"I don't think we survived that fall."


	2. Chapter Two

_Days keep passing by, like a blur. The same day, over and over. Nothing exciting. I go to school, I go back to the apartment, I walk somewhere, anywhere, I go back to the apartment, I sleep. I refuse to call the apartment 'home', as much as Roman insists on it. I don't think Dad wants to call it 'home' either, though. He says it's only temporary, that soon we'll find a proper house for us all. 'Us all' meaning me, him and Roman. _

_But I don't want to find a proper house. I don't want to live in a temporary apartment or proper house. I want to live at home, with you. I want to go back home. I want to sit on the kitchen counter and sing whilst you're making dinner. I want to lay on the couch late at night whilst you read a story from your book. I want to crawl into your bed at night after waking up from a nightmare. I want to be with you. _

_But you're gone. Everyone keeps saying that. They tell me that you're gone, and there's nothing I can do about it, so I should move on. But I don't want to move on. I want to go back and be with you. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to forget you. _

_Sometimes I'm afraid that I'll forget you. I have to go over everything I know about you in my head: kind, smart, creative. Auburn hair, green eyes, pale skin and freckles. Beautiful. Calming voice, sweet singing. The way you would hold me in your arms, securely, protectively. You were warm and soft and cosy. _

_My therapist told me that writing to you would help. That it would help me sort through my feelings. That it would help me move on. _

_He doesn't understand. I don't _want _to move on. _

_You liked writing, too. Maybe one day you can write back. _

_Because you're not really gone, are you? You're still here. I can feel it. Soon enough you'll be back. Maybe you're reading this as I write. You must be. You must want to know what's going on now. _

_The sun is setting. The air is cold. It's getting dark and I am getting tired. I get tired a lot these days, but I never sleep. That's funny. Maybe I should take a nap. _

He closed the book, dropped his pen to the floor, and breathed in and out, in and out. Some remaining ink soaked into the grass. An offering, he supposed. She liked to write, so maybe she could use it.

He leant back, feeling the cold, rough stone on his exposed neck. His hair had just been cut earlier that day - he had wanted to let it grow out, but Dad had forced him to get it cut. Dad thought that he wouldn't look 'professional' with long hair. Whatever that meant.

His arms were cold. He really should have grabbed his hoodie before leaving the house, but he had needed to escape. So all he had was his purple t-shirt - the one with rips, the one that Roman hated - and his usual black, ripped skinny jeans.

Lifting up his Polaroid camera from around his neck, he took a shot of the view. Gravestones paving their way up the hill, bare trees at the top, the final sunlight seeping through the spaces between the ragged branches. When he moved back home - because he _was _going to move back home - he planned to fill his bedroom walls with photos like this. His therapist said that was good, that pictures would help ground him in reality.

"Virgil, there you are!"

Virgil shot his head around at the sound of a familiar voice, and groaned. Roman walked up behind him. Great.

"Your father and I have been worried sick," Roman said, bending down to kneel besides him.

"Wow, I'm flattered," Virgil replied, flatly.

"I'm being serious, Virgil," Roman said. "You disappeared so suddenly. Your father did say that you might be here, but..."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "I haven't even been gone that long. I told you I was going for a walk."

"It's almost sunset," Roman pointed out. "You left the house around midday."

"Yeah, and?"

"You are a _child_, Virgil," Roman argued.

"I'm fifteen."

"A _child_," Roman repeated. "You shouldn't be out all on your own all of the time. Especially not-" He glanced around, grimacing. "-here."

"What's wrong with here?" Virgil asked, leaning forward and propping his head up on his hands, with his elbows resting on his crossed-legs.

Roman sighed. "I just don't think it's appropriate for you to be hanging around in a graveyard all the time. _Especially _not on your-"

He stopped. Silence fell between them. Virgil stared at him, trying his best not to cry.

"Let's just get you home," Roman said.

* * *

The moon was just beginning to rise as they made it back to the apartment. Virgil couldn't tell whether Dad was relieved or not to see him home - Dad was hard to read, rarely ever smiling. Maybe that's where Virgil got it from.

He went straight up to his room, to lie awake in his bed. He was tired, but he didn't want to sleep. He just wanted everything to stop.

But when he entered his room, his whole world seemed to collapse. It was empty. His bed was gone, his posters had been taken down, the walls had been painted over. Frowning, he turned and went back downstairs.

"Hey, Dad, uh..." He sat on the arm of the sofa in the living room, looking over at Dad on the armchair in the corner, watching TV. "Where's all my shit?"

"Language, Virgil," Roman said in a sing-song voice, as he passed into the kitchen.

"Sorry," he said, quietly, and then corrected himself, "please can you tell me where all of my shit has gone?"

"It's in the moving van," Dad stated.

Virgil frowned. "The what?"

"We're moving away," Dad said.

Virgil blinked. He stared at Dad, speechless. "Why is this the first time I'm hearing this?"

Roman came back into the room and sat down besides Dad. "We knew that if we told you you'd kick up a fuss."

Virgil frowned. "What, and you thought that I wouldn't kick up a fuss if you told me right before we left?"

Dad and Roman looked at each other, concerned.

"Look, son," Dad said, "we didn't want you to freak out. I know you like it in this city, but-"

"We're moving to a different _city_?" Virgil exclaimed.

"-but I think it's best for all of us if we get away. There are too many... not so good memories here, for all of us. We need to move on."

"But..." Virgil breathed in. "Our house. It's here. We can't-"

"Your house is gone, Virgil," Roman said.

"And Mom-"

"Mom's gone too," Dad said, standing up. "And it's time we leave this place. We need a fresh start."

Virgil stared at him for a moment, before standing up and leaving the apartment, sitting down on the curb outside the building. The moving van was down the street, with people filling it up. It was settled, then. They were going. There was nothing that Virgil could about it.

He would be away from her. He wouldn't be able to visit her anymore. He would be alone. And so would she.

Alone. Invisible. Forgotten.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING:** blood mention

Remus had been alone in the house for decades before a new couple moved in. The family who lived there before had died in 'mysterious circumstances', and then ran away to the Netherworld upon meeting the Duke. Of course, he didn't blame them - he _was_ the person that killed them in the first place - but he couldn't help but feel a little sad. He was so lonely, in the house all alone, invisible to the outside world. He thought that, maybe, if he could just make it so the family could see him, they'd want to be his friend, and he wouldn't be so lonely.

Ha. As if that would ever work. As if he hadn't already tried that the family before, and the family before that, and the family before that.

So when the Sanders moved in, Remus thought he'd try a different approach to make himself seen. These two were mortal, of course, which meant eventually they would die, as mortals often did. And once they did die, he would be ready to greet them, explain to them what happened, get them on his good side and then maybe, just maybe, they'd want to be friends.

The Sanders were nice, anyway. That Patton was just a ball of sunshine, always smiling and cheerful, baking or sowing or dancing, doing whatever his heart wanted. And that Logan... well, Logan was boring, but he was sexy, and Remus respected that. The two lived a fairly normal life, Remus guessed. They never noticed any of the weird stuff Remus got up too, so he was able to watch them freely, getting to know them ready for their death.

In the days leading up to their fall, Remus hadn't expected a thing. Neither had the other two, obviously. They had been busy preparing for their wedding - which, after listening to their two am rants to each other, Remus knew they didn't _really_ want, but Patton still seemed pretty excited about it - and, of course, didn't notice Remus at all.

"Honey, do you think you can pop round to the shop to get some more snacks?" Patton asked, the night before the wedding.

"You've already got a snack right here," Remus said, wrapping his arm around Logan.

"Don't we have enough?" Logan asked, unknowingly moving away from Remus and causing him to lose his balance and fall on the floor. There was a quiet thud, causing Logan to turn around, frowning, but Remus still went unnoticed.

Scrambling back to his feet, Remus said, "Yeah, Patton, is Logan not enough for you?"

"It's just in case, Loggie," Patton said, turning around to face Logan. "We have quite a few people coming over and I don't want to run out."

Logan smiled fondly. "Of course, Patton." He leant down to give Patton a peck on the lips. "I'll return shortly. Goodbye."

Remus leant back against the staircase and continued watching Patton, as he waited for Logan's return. It was always fun watching Patton when he was alone, because it was way more likely for him to freak out over a tiny mistake - like when he cut his finger instead of cutting the apple and screamed for a solid minute before remembering that plasters exist - or to burst out into song - like how he sang the recipe for apple pie as he made it. Without Logan around to help him or stop him from doing something stupid, Patton has no impulse control or a way to solve very simple problems, and that was entertaining to watch.

But then Logan finally arrived home and things went back to normal. He checked out Patton's finger, cleaning up the blood and reassuring him that it would be okay, and went back to decorating. They didn't have long before the wedding.

It came sooner than Remus expected, though. Time worked differently for the dead. Soon enough the two were married and the party - which Remus has decided to stay out of, since he was trying to get on their good side and scaring their friends didn't seem like the best way to do that - had ended.

Their death came sooner than Remus had expected, too. Sure, he was trying not to kill them this time, but he always assumed that, eventually, he would... aid their death. Not directly cause it, but maybe take out a few screws, chew through some wires, scatter conveniently placed sharp objects around the house. But he planned to do that in a couple years, when he was bored of just watching them. Definitely not on the night of their wedding.

They seemed perfectly capable of dying by themselves though, so things worked out. And besides, dying sooner meant they could be friends sooner!

It must have been a few hours after their fall before Remus decided it was time to introduce himself. He wanted to make sure that they got their bearings first, so it didn't come as a complete shock to them when Remus appeared. But he also couldn't leave it too long, because if he let them get used to being dead they wouldn't need his help, and then they might never become friends.

"I don't think we survived that fall," Patton said.

This was it. They knew they were dead. It was his time to shine.

"Hey," he said, coming up behind the Sanders. "Wanna be friends?"

Patton leaped forward and turned around, almost having a heart attack - he probably would have if his heart still worked. Logan didn't seem so surprised, and instead just turned around and pushed his glasses up his nose, examining Remus.

"Who are you?" Logan said.

"Glad you asked, you sexy beast," Remus said, smirking. "I, uh, can't actually say my name, but-"

"What do you mean you can't say your name?" Logan asked.

"I just can't, Logan," Remus. "Here, uh, I've got a business card-"

He produced a card from his pocket and handed it to Logan, who read it aloud. "Draco's Bar, find the man of your nigh-"

"Wrong card," Remus said, snatching out of Logan'a hand and replacing it with another.

"Duke Remus, bio-exorcist, since 1327. Call him thrice for a chance to live twice."

"Your name is Duke Remus?" Patton guessed. "Can we just call you Remus?"

"Yeah, sure."

Patton smiled. "So, uh, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you see, I am dead," he stated, "and you two are also dead - see, we already have so much in common. And, well, I was hoping that maybe I could help you out? Maybe we could be friends?"

"Help us with what, exactly?" Logan asked.

"Help you with, y'know, the whole 'being dead' thing. Show you the ropes. Teach you how to kill some people-"

"I don't want to kill anybody," Logan said, whilst Patton explained, "You've killed people?"

"Not the point," Remus said, walking away and motioning for the Sanders to follow. "Any moment now, a new family are gonna walk through that door, and you guys don't wanna be around for that-"

"We just died, though," Logan pointed out. "Surely people won't already move in-"

"Time works differently for the dead, Logan."

"How do you know my-"

"Look, Logan, you're sexy and I appreciate that, but could you please shut your mouth for once in your life and get your beautiful ass upstairs."

Logan seemed to want to argue, but apparently decided not to. Instead, he took Patton's hand and followed Remus upstairs, just about making it into the attic before a new family walked through the door.


	4. Chapter Four

_They're trying to erase you and it's killing me. Dad so desperately wants to move on that he isn't even acknowledging his pain, my pain, your pain. Roman expects us to all be an endless beam of sunshine and he doesn't understand what I'm going through at all. They both just want you gone. I don't want you to be gone. _

_I can't visit you anymore, but I hope you're still listening to me. Maybe you've followed me out of town, to protect me. I need protecting. I need you to stay. I can't bare to let you go. You can't be erased. _

_They're trying to erase you, just like they erased me. _

"Virgil, can you stop whatever you're doing and actually help?" Roman asked, though Virgil knew he meant it as an order.

"My therapist said I should do this once a day," he argued. The so-called family had arrived at their so-called new house around an hour ago, and they had been busy moving their stuff inside. Virgil _had _been helping for a while, but this mostly resulted in Roman shouting at him for putting things in the wrong place, so he had elected to sit down and write in his journal. He fully intended to continue doing this.

"Your _old _therapist said that," Roman stated. "Maybe your new therapist will say something different."

Virgil frowned. "And?"

"Just help out, please," Roman requested.

"I'll just end up ruining things," he said, looking back down to his journal.

Roman sighed. "How about you go pick out a room and move your things up there?" he suggested.

Virgil glanced up. He shut his journal tight. "Okay. Fine." He jumped off the wall and walked towards the pile of belongings, going to pick up one of the boxes of his things.

"Oh, and Virgil?"

He turned around. "What?"

"Cheer up, okay?" Roman smiled. "We moved out here for a little change. We want you to be happy."

Virgil wanted to argue that he really can't be happy, not when the one person who understood him was dead and his actual father didn't care at all about him, but he knew that wouldn't work on Roman. Instead, he plastered on a smile, and stepped into the house.

The house was big, too big for a family of three, Virgil thought. Their last house hadn't been as big as this one, or as old. Their last house had been nice, cosy, perfect for the three of them. This one was different and cold and probably on the verge of collapsing. He had no idea why Dad had thought it was a good idea to move here.

He walked up the stairs to look around the bedrooms, trying to find whichever one looked the most stable. Eventually, he settled with a small room near the back of the house, hidden away from view. He figured that would give him the most privacy, and a nice enough view - the window opened up to a forest behind the house, where he could see the sun just beginning to sink under the trees. A bed was already set up in the corner, presumably by the construction workers that had arrived a couple hours before. Virgil placed the box on the bed and begin unpacking.

He didn't have many things to put in his room, just a few small boxes of clothes, posters and books. Most of his things had... well, they were no longer in his possession. He had done his best to salvage what he could from his old house, but mostly he just had a couple things his mother gave him and whatever he had brought in the time living with Roman.

Still, he had enough. He had his camera, he had his journal, he had a picture frame containing him and his mother, and he had the bracelet she had given him for his fourteenth birthday. That was enough.

Once he had sorted everything out, including sticking up his posters and putting on his bedsheets, he left the room to go find Roman, inform him that he had unpacked everything, and return outside to continue writing. But before he reached the stairs, his feet stopped.

There was a person, standing at the end of the hallway, by the stairs to the attic. A man, maybe late-twenties, wearing a blue polo shirt with a grey cardigan wrapped around his neck like a cape. There was blood dripping down his leg, but he didn't seem to be taking any notice. Instead, he just stared at Virgil, and Virgil stared back. His eyes seemed... almost empty, like all the life just been sucked out of him. He lifted his hand and waved to Virgil, but Virgil didn't wave back, out of fear. His hand looked almost transparent, but perhaps Virgil was just sleep-deprived. Since Virgil didn't respond, he turned and went up into the attic.

After a moment of standing there, confused, Virgil returned downstairs to find Dad, instead. All the construction workers had left at this point, so who could it have been?

He found Dad in the kitchen, his phone up to his ears. "Hey, Dad."

Dad turned around. "I don't really have time to speak right now," he whispered. "I'm on hold."

"I'll be quick," Virgil said.

Dad stared at his for a moment. "Fine."

"Is there anyone else in the house?"

He frowned. "There shouldn't be, not yet."

"I saw someone go up into the attic."

"Virgil, there's no one else in the house," he said, firmly.

"I swear-"

"Look, Virgil, I really don't have time for this. I know for a fact that there is no one else in this house. You're imagining things." He sighed. "Go talk to Roman."

Virgil opened his mouth to argue further, but just sighed. There was no use. He left the kitchen and went to find a Roman, just as he was told. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do, anyway. The person in the attic - who he _definitely _didn't make up - would have to wait.


	5. Chapter Five

Before entering the attic, Patton stopped and turned around. There was a boy, young, wearing black ripped jeans and a purple t-shirt with black fishnet sleeves. And he was looking straight at Patton, just staring. As if he couldn't believe he could see him. Was this one of the new people living here? Or another ghost, maybe? Patton waved to him, but he didn't wave back. 

Trying not to think about it, Patton followed Logan into the attic, locking the door behind him. He looked over at Remus, who had already sprawled himself over Logan's desk. Patton was half tempted to go up and drag Remus off - that was _Logan's _desk, containing all of _Logan's _life work, and Remus had _no right _to be laying on top of it. But he had to be_ civil_ \- Remus had said that he would help them, and that meant they had to give a good first impression. Even if Remus hadn't exactly given the best first impression, what with the whole supposed killing of several people.

"Mr Remus-"

"Duke Remus."

"Duke Remus," Logan corrected, walking up towards him, "please can you get off my desk and explain what is going on." Patton sighed with relief upon Logan asking Remus to do exactly what he was considering forcing him to do, and joined his husband's side.

Remus groaned, but sat up, now sitting cross-legged with his elbows propped up on his knees, his hands holding his chin. "I'm not getting off your desk," he stated. "I always used to sit up here when I watched you do your work."

Logan frowned. "Do you have any idea how weird that sounds?"

"Nope." Remus grinned. "I liked watching you work. You're even sexier when you get frustrated."

Patton wrapped his arm protectively around Logan's waist, pulling him closer. "Mr Duke Remus, sir, I don't think-"

"No one asked for your opinion, Patton," Remus interrupted. He paused. "Actually, no, sorry Patton, I shouldn't have interrupted you. You may not be as sexy as Logan-"

"Hey!" Patton exclaimed - more because he called Logan sexy again than being compared to him.

"-but you're still attractive and I want you to be my friend."

"Why do you want to be friends with us?" Logan asked. "Other than the fact that I'm 'sexy'," he added, using air quotes.

"I'm just so lonely, okay?" he said. "And I think you guys are cool. And I'm bored." He hummed, before quickly and quietly saying, "And also I need you to get one of those alive people to say my name three times please and thank you."

Neither of them quite hearing what Remus had said, Patton requested, "Could you repeat that last bit?"

"We can get to that later," Remus promised. "For now, you two need to learn how to scare people."

Patton gasped. "No! We can't do that, that'd be mean."

"I agree with Patton," Logan said. "I wouldn't want to harm anybody."

"You won't be _hurting _them," Remus said, "just shaking them up a little bit. Maybe cause some minor mental breakdowns. I mean, unless you want to hurt them, in which case I have a variety of weapons including maces, shurikens, swords, knives-"

"We're not killing anyone," Patton decided.

"I never said _kill_," Remus argued. "Just... fatally injure."

Logan blinked. "That would kill them."

"_No_." Remus sighed. "If they die, that's the hospitals fault for not getting to them on time, nothing to do with us." He grinned. "And, I mean, you don't have to kill them, I'd be more than happy to do that for you. It is kinda my job. Bio-exorcist, and all."

They both just stared at him, utterly disgusted, before Logan asked, "Just what is a bio-exorcist, exactly?"

Remus looked up. "Well, you know how an exorcist is a person who gets rid of demons?"

They both nodded.

"Well, a bio-exorcist is kinda the opposite thing. I'm a demon who gets rid of people."

"But... why would somebody want to get rid of people?" Patton asked.

Remus hummed. "There are many reasons. Some ghosts just don't like people, want to be alone and stuff. Some ghosts want new people out of their house but can't scare them themselves. Some ghosts just enjoy watching people suffer."

"That's horrible," Patton said.

"Yeah, human beings sure are disgusting, aren't they?" he said, looking straight at Patton with a fiery glint in his eyes.

"We're human beings, though," Logan stated. "Are you not also a human being?"

"I was, I think." Remus unfolded his legs and hung them off the desk, swinging them back and forth. He placed his hands on the desk. "I was born 1302, died 1327, moved from Europe to America some time in the 1700s, can't quite remember when, settled down when they built this house in 1809, been here since. At some point between dying and moving to America I lost touch with my human side. Being a demon is a lot more fun."

Patton and Logan shared a concerned look with one another. 

"Don't worry, you guys!" Remus exclaimed. "I'm gonna help you, and I_ promise_ I'll try my best to not murder anybody. I never break a promise." 

After a moment of silence, Logan asked, "Why would we need your help?" 

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, what do you have to offer? What do we have to lose?" 

He hummed. "Well, if you go up to the window right now, you'll see all of your old stuff being chucked out and new stuff being moved in. These new people are ruining your much beloved home that you spent_ so much time_ working on, and they don't even know, or care that you exist. What I'm offering to do is teach you how to be seen. Living people tend to ignore the strange and unusual - namely, us - so you need to scare them to_ force_ them to see you. I can teach you how. I've been doing this for_ centuries_, Logan - I'm just about the most qualified person for the job." 

Whilst Remus went on with his monologue, Patton walked over to the window and looked out, seeing exactly what had been described. All the things he had made, all of Logan's research... He shook his head, trying to get these thoughts away - kicking these people out would be mean, but making them see him couldn't be too bad, right? Maybe Remus could help after all. 

Before he turned around to re-join the other two, he noticed a book sitting on the window._ The Handbook for the Recently Deceased._ He picked it up, frowning. "What's this?" 

Remus dived across the room and snatched the book out of Patton's hand, chucking it out the window. It fell to the floor, along with some shattered pieces of glass. "You don't want to read that. Not a great book. Little outdated, never considers the people who've actually died. Y'know, written by demons, who've always been demons. They don't care about humans at all. Besides, you have me to help you with all of that." 

Logan joined them at the window. "Won't people notice that you just, how do the kids say it..._ yeeted_ a book out the window." 

Remus closed his eyes and sighed. "First of, Logan, don't try to use modern slang, it's not a good look for you. Second of, what did I_ just_ tell you about the living ignoring the strange and unusual?"

Logan blinked. "Right." 

Remus plastered on a smile. "So then. Are you guys gonna hire me?" He held out his hands to both of them.

Patton looked at Logan and nodded. Logan smiled at him, before looking back to Remus. "Yes, Duke Remus. Please help us." 

All three shook hands and the deal was done. 


End file.
